


Warm as honey

by Vampire_goth_girl



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Developing Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Small courting rituals, Sort Of, Soulmates, beorn doesn’t get enough love, beorns house, but over the span of like a week as opposed to a day, courting, fluff with some bittersweet angst, mostly just happy, ones/mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:08:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22769836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vampire_goth_girl/pseuds/Vampire_goth_girl
Summary: Beorn doesn’t like dwarves, it’s not exactly a secret. They’re selfish, greedy, short creatures only concerned with their own lives and kind, but beorn is also not ungracious when he has guests. He maybe a bear but he still has a heart and he feels it warming up to the dwarf with the odd little hat, who smells like sweet honey and home
Relationships: Beorn/Bofur
Kudos: 4





	Warm as honey

**Author's Note:**

> Just another Drabble cause I’m watching the hobbit again. A bit of a distraction/break while I think and attempt to work on finishing my blue exorcist one shot while I’m still waiting for my mcu kink bingo custom card
> 
> I wrote this late the other night/morning before bed, without a direction or thought in mind before I started so it might seem a bit aimless but please enjoy

Beorn wasn’t over fond of dwarves but Bofur was different. With his fluffy hat, smell of the wild, understanding gaze and gentle smile. He was different and he alone had captured the skin changers attention 

Sunlight complemented the pale dwarf in the low morning light and though Beorn was not fond of the scent coming from his lit pipe, he still stood close by. Under the premise of scanning the forests edge, he leant against his porch in a comfortable shared silence and breathed in the smell of tobacco, wild, coal and honey. A sweet right scent, familiar and homely, that after much attention he had realised was indeed coming from the dwarf and not his own honey stock that was quickly depleting. He was gifted two smiles that morning that shone brighter than the sun and moon combined, one when he first walked out and spared the dwarf a long enough glance to get caught, the other just as soft and friendly as he walked away. Beorn had returned inside not long after, somehow preferring the company of dwarves to the still silence he was so use too

They overstayed their welcome, dwarves always did but Beorn didn’t mind it. It gave him more time to talk with the wizard of his concerns and to observe the dwarf, Bofur, who never seemed to take off his hat. The antics over it made him smile, it reminded him much of his second skin, soft and fuzzy with a distinct musk that was all his own. It seemed that the other dwarves didn’t like the smell or look of it, all but Bifur, the dwarf with an axe embedded in his forehead. He had learnt quickly that the two were cousins when worry grew disgruntled in his chest over the numerous times that he’d seen the younger fussing over the far more honest older. He could not talk, at least not any language they seemed to know but Beorn had long learnt that most often those without words, only action, were far more truthful. He watched and learnt and in return he was watched and learnt from

Beorn did not easily grow attached to things but within the span of two days he had quickly become unwilling to let this little dwarfling go. The one who smelt of honey and home, who said odd things and gave him soft sweet smiles. Bofur who was so unafraid to look up and meet his eyes, who happily accepted all of Beorn’s little courting gifts. From extra honey and fresh berries to the scarf he now wore, made from the skin of a warg he had killed, it’s odd fur had reminded him of Bofur’s much beloved hat so he had done what he did so rarely and took the creature back with him to be skinned, in the hopes that it too would become a much beloved treasure 

Four days had passed rapidly with Oakenshield growing more restless for each one, as time wore on, more orcs came and Beorn found his nights full of sleepless patrol. He kept the dwarves within his house safe but with each new night that his unexpected guests overstayed their collective welcome, more orcs came and with each new orc, they became more daring. Still Beorn did not wish to see them go, did not wish to be alone again, no matter what the cost against him to keep them maybe, his conviction wouldn’t waver 

He returned one morning to find Bofur asleep in his carven armchair at his table, the heavy wood making him look so much smaller. In his hands was a half carven block of wood, much smaller than the bear heads adoring his chair and a small carving knife, a reminder that dwarves were not fragile creatures despite how it may seem. As he pulled a fur over him he saw the other settle, smile ever soft as he gently pried the knife and unfinished carving from his grasp to set it upon the table. It was quiet and in the silence he realised the deep longing ache within his chest for what it was, he did not want to part with this dwarf 

When he made his presence known the next morning he was not surprised to find the dwarves already at his table, squabbling like animals over food. They had long since made themselves comfortable and took his very generous hospitality to it’s fullest. However he gave pause as he went to sit in his own chair, for there before his seat was a familiar block of wood now finally fully carven, a great big bear with much detail in it’s finished form sat perched before him. His eyes slid to the dwarf, the dwarf who had sat here only last night, who had slept here, his dwarf and he recognises it after much consideration for what it is, a courting gift

That night he is injured, just a superficial wound that bleeds a lot, much to the worry in Bofur’s panicky eyes but it is enough for Oakenshield to finally make a decision, Azog has grown bold, they will risk the trip through Mirkwood. He tries to convince him otherwise but dwarves are stubborn creatures and they have a quest to fulfill so they will go and Beorn must stay. He offers his help to ensure that they will at least make it to Mirkwood alive and Thorin agrees to stay one more night. There is no patrol this night, only locked doors and quiet words shared between him, a dwarf and a wizard. The wizard leaves them alone for bed far too soon and silence fills the space between them until Bofur speaks. He is soft and truthful and Beorn can’t help but wonder if he would taste as sweet as he smells, and while he is tempted, revelling in the dwarfs close warmth, he does not attempt to try anything more

He watches them leave with the memory of holding the small dwarf fresh in his arms and mind. He follows them despite Bofur’s protests to ensure their safety, staying as close as he can for as long as he can. Then it is from a distance, watching them dismount to enter the forest as the wind carries a honey sweet scent to him. Once at the safety of the forests edge, as if unable to help himself, Bofur gives one last longing look back at the large brown bear. He whines because it is all that he can do as he watches them leave, that precious unique hat disappearing from his great sight between the trees and taking with it that mixed honey home scent

He escorts his ponies back home, heart heavy with the promise his little dwarf had made before leaving. The promise that once this was all over, once the mountain is once again reclaimed as theirs, that he’ll return. In exchange he had promised to wait. It only took two days of longing before the ache became too much and he broke his promise. His one, the other half of his unique soul, his mate, the only one who could ever truly hope to understand him was far more important than whispers in the dark. He changed, leaving behind his once home to instead roam, following the sweet scent that promised a truly new one

**Author's Note:**

> Oh, this actually wound up longer then I thought it would be but I’m happy with it, there’s not enough beorn (or bofur or bifur) in this world


End file.
